


The Siren's Bounty

by hypnoscissorsghostnerd



Series: Siren’s Song [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fighting, Gun Violence, Love Triangles, PWP, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 11:29:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoscissorsghostnerd/pseuds/hypnoscissorsghostnerd
Summary: [Originally called "Hunted" - Sequel to "Siren's Song"]It's been almost a year since you left Overwatch and the carnage your new "family" with Gabriel Reyes had left behind. You went back to what you were doing, giving money to the poor, but the money came from unfavorable people who paid you to do their dirty work.You're still stealing money (and sometimes killing) corporate leaders and giving them to the people who need it the most, so why doesn't it feel good? That gut-wrenching feeling of emptiness eats away at you. You don't recognize what it is until a bounty hunter tracks you down. But he doesn't plan on hurting you or turn you in for the money; Jesse McCree just wants his lover back.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reader, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Series: Siren’s Song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1363849
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	The Siren's Bounty

The table shakes as you slam your blade into it. Dozens of other holes littered the table where you’d stabbed it all those other times despite only being in the hotel for two days. But those two days have been one of the most stressful days since you left the carnage at Overwatch.

It’s been barely a year since you left and you’ve been left frustrated more than ever. This was your life before you were trapped into joining Overwatch, so why did it feel so unfulfilling? Why was the abundant amount of cash that you were able to slip to the homeless children so they can go to school _unrewarding_.

Something changed within you since you left Overwatch, since you watched the base implode on itself and you saw many familiar faces staring in blank terror. Years ago, you would’ve loved to see that. Now, it churned your stomach every time you thought of it.

You pry your blade out of the table, leaving an audible “crack!” as the wood gave way under the blade’s forceful exit. Mindlessly, you stab the table again in a dull “thud”.

An unfamiliar chirp made you pause. You look over at your nightstand to see that the new burner phone had gone off for the first time. You pick up the pathetic piece of plastic as a new message from an unknown, blocked number:

“PKWY”

You drop the phone with a heavy sigh. Already suited up, you had little to do before leaving the room. You tuck the key card in your breast pocket to your hotel and the silver credit card before securing it. You hum a tune casually as you sheath your blades at your hips. Finally, you put on your mask with a hiss before walking out of the hotel room, not once pausing your tune.

The cleaning lady was slumped against her cart, a full trash bag in one gloved hand and a pile of towels messily tumbling out of the cart. Feeling guilty, you pause in your trek, still humming, as you pull the full trash bag out of her hand before knotting the end and tossing it in the bin that was attached to the cart. You then pushed the towels back onto the cart, going as far as folding the ones that became undone.

Once you were done, you continue your humming as you walk down the hallways and right out the front door. The manager was slumped over his desk, not realizing that a woman armed to the teeth was walking through his lobby.

As instructed, you follow the moonlight through the hotel parking garage, down the street, and across where there was a run-down bar with a gravel lot that was for patrons. Save for the catering van the owner used to commute to get there and a rusty old truck that’s been broken down for ages, it was empty.

You glance down at your wrist where your advanced watch flickered to light. It showed you that barely five minutes had passed since you left the hotel. It wasn’t like Gabriel to be late.

You cross your arms and sigh, finding the side panel of the bar and leaning against it as you waited patiently. You hummed a forgetful tune every once in a while just in case somebody passed by.

Minutes passed as you began to grow impatient. You wondered if you should try to go find Gabriel instead of waiting for him out here like an idiot. Or, better yet, go into the bar you’ve been smelling liquor from all night. You’ve never been a heavy drinker until recently. A heavy feeling in your heart developed and stayed since you left Overwatch in its carnage. You sigh heavily again, shaking your head; perhaps just one shot of vodka?

Yeah, that should help. Just one shot.

Just when you pressed your hand on the back door to the bar, you hear a slight sound. At first, you thought it was your imagination. However, as you paused, the hairs on the back of your neck stand high on their ends; someone was there, watching you. And it wasn’t a familiar presence.

“Don’t turn,” a deep voice rustles behind you. It was so quiet you had to strain your ear to hear it.

“You’re feelin’ guilty,” the voice continues. “But that’s because this ain’t you, is it?”

“I think you have the wrong person,” you murmur into the door in front of you.

“Nah,” the voice replies. “I know who you are. Do you?”

“What do you want?” you smirk, closing your eyes to figure out where the sound was coming from. You just needed them to respond just one more time…

“I want you to step away from the damn bar,” a gruff voice, much different than the initial voice.

You turn around to see a masked figure emerging from the shadows. You frown at it as he finally comes towards you, lifting his mask just so you can make contact with his dark-brown eyes. They’re full of concern more than anger.

“You’ve been drinking again,” Gabriel says. You shrug.

“I’m completely sober,” you reply sarcastically.

He eyes you carefully before closing them. You wait with a raised brow until he’s finished calming himself down. When he reopened his eyes, there’s a flash of red that you’ve grown to get used to. Moira said it was just a side-effect, but you didn’t dare argue with her; you probably had some unfavorable side-effects that you didn’t notice, either.

“Come on,” he motions away from the bar door. “After this mission, we’ll have to relocate. Hope you got a good night’s rest because we’re not stopping for sleep for a couple of days.”

“You’re at least buying me coffee,” you scoff as you follow him out of the lot.

As you leave, you look around in every darkened corner of the parkway. There wasn’t another person as you could see and if there was, they didn’t leave a trace behind them. You blindly follow Gabriel down the alleyways and to a hidden lot where the jet was quietly idling.

Meanwhile, you replayed the strange conversation in your head. That couldn’t have been Gabriel. He wouldn’t have hidden from you in the darkness. His voice is a bit more gruff. And he didn’t have an accent that sounded like it came from an old movie about the 19th century.

_…Old movies?_

Your gut twisted as you slowly started recognizing the voice. The jet gunned to life as it took off to the other side of the country, taking you to yet another unknown location. But it wasn’t as deafening as the blood rushed to your ears in a surge of adrenaline, a single name you haven't thought of in months echoing in your mind over and over again.

And...dammit...you wanted to see him again.


End file.
